


Freedom

by Avatre33



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 10:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23969503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avatre33/pseuds/Avatre33
Summary: Harry returns for his sixth year at Hogwarts, determined to learn everything needed to put an end to Lord Voldemort. Vampires. Werewolves. Goblins. Time-Stalls. Overpowered Harry. Slash (RL/SS/HP). Rated for future chapters. Mentions of child abuse. Please Read & Review!
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Kudos: 6





	Freedom

* * *

**Freedom**

* * *

Freedom. _noun_

 _the state of being_ _free_ _or at liberty rather than in confinement or under physical restraint_

_exemption from external control, interference, regulation, etc._

_the power to determine action without restraint._

_political or national independence._

_personal liberty, as opposed to bondage or slavery_

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the Harry Potter Universe. I'm just playin'

* * *

**Part One**

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

_Gringotts_ Harry Potter stood in the shadows, alternating his gaze between the large double doors atop the stone steps and the slowly sinking sun behind the buildings to the west. Diagon Alley was almost deserted, only a few nervous and apprehensive witches and wizards braved the open. The signs of the upcoming war were everywhere; pamphlets littered the cobbled road all flashing with information on how to protect friends and family from You-Know-Who, the walls were plastered with missing and wanted posters, and at least two of the shops had closed down and boarded up.

Harry had one of those pamphlets screwed up in his clenched fist, having spent some time marvelling at the stupidity of it. ' _Stay at home. Never approach a home with a Dark Mark above it. Never open the door before ensuring the identity of the person outside. Be on the lookout for anyone acting strange as they might be under the Imperius Curse_.' It was all so very basic and something a 5-year-old could have come up with. Did the Ministry of Magic really have nothing better to offer?

It was painful to see Diagon Alley so empty. This was one place that had always thrummed with life and laughter during his previous visits. It was always bursting at the seams with excited children and loving families, so crowded you could barely move. Now, he half expected a tumbleweed to blow past, like in all those films Dudley liked to watch.

Opposite the place where he was currently hiding was the entrance to Knockturn Alley, a place he had accidentally stumbled across at twelve. He had been so small and so terrified then that he couldn't help but smile slightly at the memory. It had been only four years ago and yet it felt like a lifetime. He wasn't quite sure what made him more nervous; the upcoming meeting, or the exploration of that dark and dank place should he be successful.

Finally, darkness descended on Diagon Alley and all at once, those shops that had remained open began to close.

Steadying himself with a deep breath, Harry stepped out of the shadows and moved towards the stone steps with a confidence he didn't feel. On either side of the door were two small people standing guard. It was only the diminutive stature that would forgive one for thinking them children, as even the tallest of goblins reached no higher than 4 feet, but the likeness ended there. They were fair-skinned with fingers that looked twice as long as they should be, hooked noses and pointy ears. Their flesh was weathered and leathery and their eyes dark and slanted.

"Ah, we wondered if you would come today." One of the two goblins spoke with a sly smirk. Harry flushed and watched with astonishment as the second goblin grumbled and handed over a handful of gold coins. True, this was the third day in a row he'd stood in those same shadows, trying to get up the nerve to do what was needed. He could only hope his glamour covered his burning cheeks.

"You made a bet?" His voice came out a little too squeaky for his tastes and he cleared his throat before trying again. "How long…"

The now-poorer goblin snorted. "You wizards must think us blind and stupid." He grumbled. "We saw you as soon as you settled into your little hidey-hole over there."

"I wasn't hiding!" Harry replied, defensively. At the incredulous look shot his way, he flushed again and averted his eyes. "Okay. I was hiding."

"Come," the first goblin said, "we have another bet to conclude."

Harry fell in step behind the one goblin and was surprised when the second pulled the giant doors closed and followed after him. He was starting to get nervous now; the few scraps of information he had managed to retain from Binns' utterly boring History of Magic crossed his mind. One thing he knew for sure; you don't mess with goblins.

"Er-" he scratched his head awkwardly and swallowed hard, remembering Hermione's advice. Confidence but no arrogance. Admit faults without blustering. "I apologise for any incorrect formality; I don't really know… I mean, is it even okay to ask what your names are?" When the Goblins just stopped and looked at him, suspicious, he sighed. "I guess it's not. I'm sorry, I'll just stay quiet."

"Graghon." The first goblin replied. It took Harry a minute to realise it was a name.

"Hmph. I'm Pintuk." Said the second.

"Very nice to meet you both," Harry offered a clumsy bow, feeling like an idiot. "I'm-"

"Please wait until we are secure." Graghon interrupted, and continued walking.

The silence was awkward, broken only by his footsteps on the marbled floor. They walked through the wide central aisle and Harry was unnerved to see the long counters were empty, with no sign of the usual hundred or so goblins sitting at them. Gringotts had already closed for the day. Had they been waiting for him?

Ridiculous.

"So," Harry broke the suffocating silence, "whats this other bet, then?"

"To see if Ragnok will allow you audience or demand you come back during opening hours."

"Oh." The idea hadn't even occurred to Harry, and that shamed him. Maybe he really _was_ as arrogant as Snape believed. Why should anybody in Gringotts, let alone this Ragnok, go out of their way to help him? ' _Because he has to.'_ Harry thought, with a grim determination. ' _If he doesn't, I'm dead.'_ He forced himself to calm and offer Graghon a sly grin, watching him from the corner of his eye. "Soooo, can I get in on this bet, then?"

He was rather pleased when both goblins let out a low gravelly bark of laughter.

Ragnok turned out to be the director of this particular Gringotts branch and was waiting for them in a large luxurious office. Confidence, Harry reminded himself. Respect. He made another of those awkward bows as he stood before the man's desk, large for the goblin, but obviously made with the comfort of their smaller stature in mind.

He could see the goblin's brow raise at the obvious deference, but he said nothing for the longest minute. Harry drew himself up and tried not to fidget, wondering if he should speak first. When the waiting got too much, he opened his mouth to do just that, when the door opened behind him and another goblin entered the room. Thankfully, he actually recognised this one.

"Griphook." Another bow. "I hope you are well?"

"Indeed."

"I will allow you two minutes," Ragnok spoke firmly, "to explain why you felt the need for such secrecy. If I am not satisfied, you will return at a more reasonable hour."

Harry was not surprised by the abruptness of the Head Goblin; all of his dealings with the bank so far had shown them to be a stern and proficient race. They would always prefer to get straight down to business.

Back at Privet Drive, the plan had seemed a good one, but now that he was here, Harry wasn't sure he had the nerve to go through with it. He and Hermione had spent weeks deciding on the best way to go about it, but Merlin he was dreading the next few months once word got out – and it would, of course, he _was_ Harry Potter, after all.

Confidence.

Show them first, he reminded himself. Let them see you're not just a spoiled brat having a tantrum. Taking a deep breath, Harry removed the full-body glamour and could feel the sudden intensity of the four goblins in the room. He knew he looked a state; his nose was broken, his eyes blackened and swollen, barely a hint of flesh not bruised. It took everything he had to still the trembling in his hands; Goblins did not like weakness, and he was already revealing more than his fair share of that.

"I was told that to seek emancipation, I should bring to you proof that my guardians are unfit."

"You could also go to your Ministry." Ragnok pointed out quietly.

Harry frowned. "I do not trust those within the Ministry to act in my best interest. As further detailing of my proof will reveal."

"You would trust goblins over your own kind?"

"Easily," Harry scoffed, "the goblins have yet to do me harm, the same cannot be said about the majority of the wizarding world."

The goblin looked at him steadily, his dark slanted gaze locked on Harry's own with an intensity that suggested he was being measured. Eventually, he gave a sharp nod, evidently a signal as the two goblins that had escorted him into the office now left.

"Very well, Mr. Potter. I understand your need for confidentiality and accept this out of hours meeting." Ragnok gestured to the empty chair the other side of his desk. "Please, sit. We have things to discuss, many documents to complete and our healers will need to assess and record your health. Your emancipation will give you your Lordship dues, but duties also. I would recommend you not ignore any further correspondence we send your way."

"Er, what?" Harry blurted, indignant. "I have never received any communication from yourselves!"

"I see." Again, Ragnok looked at him, and again, Harry felt he was being judged. The goblin must have decided he was telling the truth as he relaxed and nodded again. "We have been trying to contact you since you re-entered the magical world at eleven years of age. Had you attended the meeting, you would have been given your Heir rings, but as it appears you will be donning the Lord rings before leaving here, we shall wait and see. In addition, we have owled a monthly statement in regards to your accounts."

"Rings?" Harry asked, baffled. "And as I said, I have never received mail from Gringotts."

"We were aware of the mail redirection charm on your person; all the letters, cards and gifts sent over the years from well-wishers have been kept in a separate vault here until you came of age. It seems the charm must have been set to redirect other post to your magical guardian."

"I have a magical guardian? Who would that be?"

"Albus Dumbledore." Ragnok flashed him a toothy grin. "You will also need to give evidence that he has also been an unfit guardian, but the fact that he placed you with your muggle relatives will likely be enough. As for the rings, every Heir or Lord receives them and they are quite heavily enchanted to offer a variety of protections. A Lords ring can be used to make payments at a store to save you having to carry around a lot of galleons. As a rule, an heir ring is given when a child reaches the age of schooling, it offers protections against basic hexes and spells, and also against some poisons. It also protects against the mind arts and constructs basic mental shields."

"Yeah, that would have been useful." Harry muttered, and he couldn't help but wonder why none of this had been explained to him before. If he'd had the ring to protect against mental attack, would Voldemort still be able to affect his dreams? Would he have recognised that the vision of Sirius was false? "Is this another one of those things that everyone assumes I know?"

Ragnok hesitated. "It is a large part of the wizarding world society." He explained carefully. "There are lesser and greater houses; yours is the Noble house of Potter, and that means it is your duty to take your families lesser seat upon the Wizengamot, where laws and legislations are reviewed and passed. However, through Sirius Black's will, you are Heir, soon to be Lord, of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. It is the duty of a Lord to work to the betterment of his society."

"You're saying that it's not just an affectation." Said Harry, thoughtful. "It is an actual job."

"Indeed. That is why all Heirs are trained at an early age in politics, etiquette, manners, dance, occlumency and mediation. As soon as you returned to our world at eleven, you should have been given those same lessons."

"I see." Harry thought back to his interactions with any of the pureblooded families over the years, and even Neville's initial reaction to him, and felt heat settle in his cheeks. "And, of course, because all of this is something I should know and understand, I've basically been offering insults in one way or another every time I open my mouth? I've basically come across as an ill-mannered boor?"

Ragnok nodded. "However, a number of houses have dropped a lot of the formalities and traditions. Once the information of your upbringing comes out in the next few weeks, you may find many of them approaching you again."

"Fantastic." Harry sighed and pushed his hand through his hair, wincing as he disturbed a scab on his back. "Very well, that had better be one of the first things I attempt to teach myself."

"Had we realised you were unaware; we would have taken steps to inform you of all of this during your first trip to Gringotts. When you came in with Mr. Hagrid, it was assumed you were uninterested; we do not discuss business in front of others."

"I understand," Harry sighed again, "and I apologise for any and all insult I may have given."

"It is understood and forgiven." Ragnok replied, gravely. "Now, before we get in to anything else, and as you do not have your Gringotts key, we must first perform an inheritance test. This will give us proof of your identity and detail what inheritances you can expect when you become emancipated. For that, we need just one drop of blood on this parchment."

Harry hesitated; after that graveyard incident in his fourth year, he had become somewhat paranoid where blood was concerned. Then again, the Goblins had no reason to act against him, and certainly had no loyalty to wizardkind in general. Moving carefully so as not to jar any of his bruises, he reached over the desk and accepted a small knife. A quick prick of his finger, and he watched as the blood dropped and soaked into the parchment.

Immediately, words started to form.

**Inheritance Test of one**

_Harrison Jameson Potter_

**Born to** _James Fleamont Potter (deceased)_ and _Lily Potter nee Evans (deceased)_

 **Sworn Godparents** : _Sirius Orion Black (deceased)_ and _Amelia Bones (unaware)_

 **Heir to** (Paternal Line): Gryffindor, Slytherin, Peverell, Potter

(Maternal Line): Ravenclaw,

(By Conquest): Slytherin, Gaunt

(By Godparents): Hufflepuff

(By Debt Owed): Dumbledore

 **Life Debts Owed** : Severus Snape (Inherited/fulfilled), Weasley, Black.

 **Life Debts Outstanding** : Severus Snape (Partially Fulfilled)

 **Inherited Abilities** : Magic (65% Leeched). Wandless Proficiency (Blocked due to Insufficient Available Magic. Partially Broken). Animagus. Metamorphmagus. Spellcraft. Eidetic Memory (Injury Blocked). Parseltongue. Parselmagic. Healing Arts.

"How can I possibly be related to the four founders?" Harry asked, frowning. "My mother was muggle-born, so this has got to be wrong."

"Your mother was born to an ancient branch of the Ravenclaw family, the remnants of a squib line." Ragnok explained. "We investigated this when your mother opened her first vault here at Gringotts, but I believe she was unaware of her ancestry. You are a direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor from your father's line, Slytherin heritage comes via the Peverell line, a secondary branch, and through your multiple magical victories against the direct heir: Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"And Hufflepuff?"

"As the current heir to Hufflepuff is your bonded Godmother, and as she has not birthed children of her own, you are her designated heir. It is strange that she is listed as unaware; a powerful confundus or obliviate is the only answer."

"I don't understand," Harry admitted, "what does this mean?"

"Well, it means you have access to the artefacts and monies from the vaults of the four founders, as well as the magical abilities known to their lines. Eidetic memory from Ravenclaw, I assume you suffered some injury to your head at some point over the years? Parseltongue and magic from Slytherin, Wandless Proficiency from Gryffindor and the Healing Arts from Hufflepuff." Ragnok explained, eyes locked on the test before him. "This leech on your magic is concerning, but the diagnostic from our healers will explain that in more detail, I believe, and they will hopefully be able to heal the injury that has blocked your memory. What this means, Mr. Potter, is that you are currently the wealthiest wizard in this world, not just in gold but in magical power."

"Right, okay." Harry said, shakily. "What about the life debt bit?"

"At some point, a member of your family has saved the life of Severus Snape. That it is marked as fulfilled means that Potions Master Snape has paid that life debt in full. As the others are not listed as inherited, it seems you personally have saved the life of at least one member of the Weasley and the Black clans."

"I see, and now I owe Severus Snape a life debt? What does that entail, exactly?"

"That is a matter between wizards." Ragnok answered. "Usually a life debt is paid in kind; he saved your life, so you save him. However, an agreement can be made between the two parties and it could include anything from marriage contracts to monetary restitutions."

Harry winced; he could just imagine how well that conversation would go down with Professor Snape.

"Now, I have the details of your accounts here." The goblin continued, his hand resting on a rather large stack of parchment. "However, I think it's probably better if you take a copy with you. If you have any questions after that, feel free to arrange a meeting or owl."

"Thank you." Harry took the pile that was pushed over to him, grateful. The last thing he wanted was to sit there in pain trying to wrap his head around numbers.

"For now, let's get you scanned and healed. With the results for that, we can make a start on expediating your emancipation. After that we will go over the wills and finally introduce you to your Lordship rings"


End file.
